


Channeling Absolution

by midgetnazgul



Category: Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-17
Updated: 2012-06-18
Packaged: 2017-11-08 00:04:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/436898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midgetnazgul/pseuds/midgetnazgul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Edgeworth is left shaken by the events of the trial for Misty Fey's murder. What will he do, knowing now that the Kurain Channeling Technique that he despised and rejected for so long is indeed real?</p>
<p>Buckets of UST to commence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The history of this piece of fanfiction is long and difficult. If you recognize the title, yes, it is the same from ff.net. I am in the process of dismantling that account and transferring what's there over here. 
> 
> The majority of this work has been written over the past several years, which were very difficult times for me. I fully intend to finish this story, I love it to pieces, it's just...a challenge to return to the original inclinations that drove me to write this in the first place. If you're a returning reader: I wholeheartedly apologize for just leaving this hanging for so very long. If you're just finding this for the first time: Please enjoy! And, uh, please bear with me. >_>
> 
> Also, I especially and profusely thank the people who have helped beta/encourage me with this.

                Miles Edgeworth had never been one to believe in the supernatural and fantastic.  In his mind, that which could not be proven with direct evidence didn't even warrant his attention.  This was especially true of ghosts, spirits, and whatnot.  Since most of his livelihood revolved around the factual and tangible, he had always been surprised and mildly disturbed by the ease with which Wright accepted such ideas.

                That is, until _this_ case.

                He had become intimately acquainted with the logistics and secrets of the Fey clan's method of succession throughout the proceedings of Iris’ trial, but he had regarded it as little more than petty internal family feuding for ceremonial importance. So, of course, it had come as quite a shock to him, in more than one way, to learn that the Kurain Channeling Technique was not only real, but had been a large part of the threat to Maya's life while she had been missing.

                Even after watching the quasi-exorcism of Dahlia Hawthorne's spirit mid-trial, he not only still found it difficult to believe what he had seen, but violently so. Some part inside of him rebelled against it, almost as if it would cause him physical pain to admit to the Fey clan's supernatural ability. The feeling disturbed him so much that it had persisted long after court had been dismissed and into the dinner that was part of the post-trial celebration.

                The car flew down the road, passing a small Asian-themed restaurant as they went. A pair of large stone lanterns stood near the entrance, reminding him of another, fateful lantern of similar stature. With sudden blazing clarity, he was mentally pulled back to the conversation he had shared with Wright the previous afternoon regarding Dahlia Hawthorne. He recalled that back then, he had also taken a rather vehement stance against Phoenix's claim that it wasn't only possible for Dahlia to have been involved in a murder posthumously, but she may have been an instigator of it. Recalling the memory made him realize he had felt a similar emotion to the one he was experiencing now, and he guessed that was what had led to such an extreme outburst against his friend.

                But, what reason could there be for it? He was not one to rise to anger openly.  Wright, however, seemed to understand what he did not. After Edgeworth's insistence of disbelief, Wright had not been angry, nor did he even attempt further to persuade the prosecutor. He had simply stared at Edgeworth with a sad, perhaps pained, but sympathetic eye as if he had expected this response and knew the source of it.

                _Where have I seen that look before?_ Edgeworth pondered as he parked the car and entered the gaudy establishment.

                Then, somewhere between the car and the table, realization hit.

                It had happened more than two years ago, when DL-6 had been dragged into the limelight once more, and the wounds left by his painful past had been laid bare for all to rub salt into. That was where he had seen that particular look before. Once Phoenix had come to understand all that had happened to Miles leading up to his sudden disappearance from school, he would sometimes fix the prosecutor with that look when they discussed it during the trial. It had always made Miles feel uncomfortable, yet at the same time, he had been drawn to the obvious sympathy and worry characterized in the arc of his admittedly strange eyebrows and unspoken emotion of his body language. The times he had been closest to breaking during that painful period had been the points after these conversations, when Phoenix had finally broken gaze with him to go back to business. The distant and awkward comfort given by the man had been torn away so suddenly, and the weight of reality had rushed back in with such cold ruthlessness that he wondered how he had handled all of it for so long.

                So that was it. DL-6. He sighed inwardly. How long would this continue to hound him? Up until now, he had believed that he had finally managed to set all that behind him and move on.

                After the initial shock, denial and fear of the truth to DL-6, the knowledge he had gained from his own trial for murder had assisted him in putting the past, even his time with von Karma, behind him. His nightmares had stopped, but apparently some deeply hidden subconscious roots remained.

                It shouldn't have surprised him, really. Initially, he had not been angry with what had happened in the wake of DL-6. He simply hadn't been old enough to understand anything beyond the horrifying fact that his father was gone, and the judicial system that same man had so cherished had failed to bring him posthumous justice.

                He hadn't come to fully understand the significance of the spirit medium, Misty Fey, who had called forth his father's soul, until his teenage years. He had been well into his legal education, and it had further appalled him in both a legal and personal perspective. Yes, Hammond had indeed gotten Yogi off for the murder most people had believed he had done, but to think the police and the prosecutor's office would rely on such shoddy, transparently thin evidence? They had brought that verdict upon themselves!

                Edgeworth had solemnly sworn to himself to never use such methods, no matter how desperate his case may be. He had never truly hated Misty Fey or the Fey clan itself, merely the idea and superstition that was their trade. It had been just another one of the many things that had failed him in the wake of DL-6.

                "….iles….dge…" He was abruptly pulled from his thoughts.

                "Miles Edgeworth! Are you intent on eating in such a foolish position? Honestly, little brother, you are quite the fool when you wish to be."

                Franziska? Right, but….what was he doing?

                Looking down, he realized that Franziska was sitting at one of the tables inside the restaurant, across from Gumshoe, farther away from her than in the car but still within whipping range should the need present itself. Somehow, Edgeworth remained standing.  One of his hands rested on the back of a half pulled-out chair, forgotten, most likely, because of his earlier realization. How long had he been standing there? He had no recollection of ever entering the restaurant. Not one to show how flustered he was by his faux pas, he silently finished pulling out the chair next to Franziska and seated himself in one cool, fluid motion. Apparently, that was not enough to stop their confusion and curiosity.

                "Are you alright, sir?" Gumshoe asked abruptly.

                "Indeed, little brother, your behavior is…less than characteristic," Franziska added, though her accent had added a sharp tone that made Edgeworth wince inwardly as if he were being scolded. Suddenly, her eyebrows rose at the thought of what he could only guess was some sort of imaginative explanation for his odd actions. "Certainly you aren't still foolishly brooding on the fiasco with the defendant yesterday?"

_I certainly feel more stupid now, Franziska. Thanks._

                Like he hadn't been brooding enough already, and then she had to add _that_ back onto everything. With a massive mental shove, though, he pushed all that to the back of his mind so it wouldn't show on his face.

                "Of course not. And I'm fine, today has simply given me a lot of information to absorb," Edgeworth stated with an impatient roll of the eyes for effect. The subject needed to be changed, and quickly. "However, that's not the reason why we're here tonight. Hopefully, Wright will be back before long, and with good news."

                It worked. Franziska turned her gaze down to the table, and Gumshoe appeared to absorb himself in whatever level of deep thought he was capable of.  Probably worry for Pearl. The stocky officer knew a lot more about her than Edgeworth himself did and, curiously enough, seemed to care about her nearly as much as Phoenix and Maya did. Glad for the respite from his companions' potentially embarrassing questions, he resumed his thoughts.

                Obviously, this wasn't going to just go away over time, but he simply didn't want to wait for that. He wanted, perhaps even needed, to be proactive about it. What was he supposed to do, then? It wasn't as if he could simply amputate these feelings from himself like a diseased limb. He replayed the end of the trial over again in his mind, but nothing presented itself. The moment of Dahlia's departure from this plane had simply come and gone too quickly for him to comprehend in such a state of surprise. If only he could see it again in a more personal setting…

                That was it! See it again. Well, not Dahlia Hawthorne, obviously, but a spirit channeling in general.

                His thoughts were once again interrupted, this time by the arrival of Wright with both Maya and, thankfully, Pearl in tow. They sat down at the table, and the mood instantly lifted. Everyone, even a reticent Franziska, began chatting amiably enough with each other. Edgeworth, satisfied that he had come to a reasonable conclusion, felt much more at ease and allowed himself to take part in the celebration. Despite the crappy food that Très Bien had pretty much become famous for (a fact which earned Gumshoe a nasty whipping later on), dinner passed without incident, and everyone enjoyed the company immensely after such a harrowing week. Before long, bills were paid, thanks were exchanged, and preparations were made to leave. Phoenix, in particular, looked anxious to leave, no doubt out of concern for Maya.  The sidelong worried glances he kept making at her were obvious all throughout dinner.  Edgeworth couldn't help but smile inwardly at his colleague's constant empathy for others.

               The smile was quickly broken, though, by apprehension. He wanted to approach Maya about his request as soon as possible, but was now truly all that prudent? Regardless of what one believed had caused it, she was very obviously drawn from the past few days' experiences. However, there was no knowing how long she would remain in town and, though it was difficult to admit, he would only become more and more reluctant if he let it wait. His appendages seemed to make the decision for him, for he suddenly found himself directly behind her previously retreating back and with a hand on her shoulder. Maya turned in surprise. Wright, sensing the lack of her presence behind him, also turned.

               "Miss Fey, er…"

                _Wonderful, Miles. Absolutely wonderful._

"Mr. Edgeworth! What is it?"

               "If…if I might have a word, for just a moment? I have…a request."

               There it was again, that _look._ He could feel it boring into him somewhere between his right ear and eye. Wright's "all-knowing" gaze. It took a lot not to look over at him. He didn't have time to play that mental game with himself right now.

               Surprisingly, Maya was not put off. That, or she just hid it well.

               "Uh, sure. I don't mind."

               She glanced back at Phoenix, who nodded after a moment. Together, prosecutor and spirit medium stepped a few paces closer to the door of the restaurant they just had left for a little more privacy. Nowhere in his memory could he recall speaking with Maya personally like this. Being faced with that fact only made him more uneasy.

               "I apologize for delaying your arrival home, Miss Fey, but I didn't know if I'd have another opportunity to ask…" Edgeworth drifted off as he felt the previous tense emotion bordering on physical pain rear its head again.

               "No, it's okay, really. Nick's just being a worry-wart. And you _can_ call me ‘Maya’, you know," she replied easily. "So what do you need, especially from me?"

               "I wish to…see you channel a spirit, personally. For a long time, I have…held something of a grudge toward you and your family's ability, and after today, I…well, I just think it will help me continue to put my past behind me. Please understand, I don't mean to be unkind-" he added hurriedly, afraid he would upset her with his last careless statement. The prickly-haired defense attorney would be furious with him.

               While she didn't appear to be mad at him, her reaction did at first confuse him. Something of a shadow passed very briefly over her face, leaving Edgeworth wondering if he had even seen it at all. Whatever had happened, it was immediately replaced with her usual chipper demeanor. Had he indeed said too much regarding his feelings about the Fey family?

               "Oh, I get you!" she said finally. "Don't worry, I understand what you mean. I'd love to, but I really just can't do it tonight…"

               Miles relaxed. _I see. She is simply exhausted._

               "Heavens, no! I never…this need not be done immediately, but whenever you have recovered. Like I said earlier, I only bring it up now because I didn't know when else I would be able to approach you."

               "Right, okay! Well then…hmm. How about a week from today? That'll give me plenty of time to feel better and get what I need to perform the ceremony."

                _Ceremony…?_ He wondered, but pushed it aside.

               "Alright then, that's fine. Do I…need to do, or…bring something?" he suggested brokenly. What did he know, after all?

               Maya grinned, clearly amused.  "Nope, that's all my and Pearly's job. But, I do have to ask, who do you want me to channel?"

               That caught him off-guard. He had been so focused on getting to talk to Maya about the subject at all that he hadn't thought that far. An unbidden image flashed across his mind, and he suddenly knew exactly whom he should channel. He was only well-acquainted with one deceased person, after all. But, did he have it in him to do that? The very thought shook him to the core.

                _Well, this_ _ **did**_ _start as an attempt to put the past behind. There isn't a much more effective way to do that._

The logic was irritatingly sound. What sort of "changed man" would he be if he didn't follow through completely?

               "W-well, I…" he started, but couldn't finish for some inexplicable reason.

               "Who am I kidding? It's your dad, isn't it?" Maya asked kindly. She had beaten him to the punch, and he wasn't exactly ungrateful for it, either.

               "I s-suppose….yes, that is the most likely candidate." He grimaced at his reluctance.

               Maya smiled gently at Edgeworth. While she was often exceedingly loud and scatterbrained, but there was no doubting her sincere care for her friends. But was he truly a friend in Maya's mind? Their "relationship" had not started under the greatest of circumstances. After their first meeting in court, they had settled into a separate existence, with Phoenix being the only real connection between them. At least, that was how Edgeworth had seen it. Apparently, Maya didn't feel the same way, judging from the ease with which she extended the figurative hand of friendship to him.

               "Okay, sounds good. I guess…I'll have Nick call you the night before so I can give you an idea of when to show up. Does that work for you?" she asked.

               "Yes, of course. I…look forward to it," he added lamely. He really didn't know what else to say.

               "If you have any questions or are worried about anything, don't be afraid to get a hold of me anytime this week, okay? I can't imagine having to get in contact with a parent…like this…" she faltered at the end of the sentence. The shadow he had thought he had imagined earlier returned, this time clearer than ever.

               It took Edgeworth a few puzzled moments, but he soon realized that he and Maya now shared a common thread in having a murdered parent. The memory of her sullen rejection of the Fey family after she had regained consciousness in the courtroom hit him like an errant two-by-four to the face. His outright selfishness and disregard appalled him, and it was all he could do not to completely destroy any attempt at a coherent sentence. All of his usual poised composure left him.

               "Oh, Maya, I had completely…I'm such an _idiot_! How could I ever…Christ, I can't believe, after everything that you learned and said today-I'm so, so sorry. _Fuck!_ "

               Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Maya look up at him in what he guessed must be shock. It was very rare indeed for Miles Edgeworth to be so flustered as to fall into using expletives. He ran a hand through his long bangs in frustration and chanced a glance at what he expected to be an upset Maya.

               Instead, she was smirking, though the ghost of her sorrow still shadowed her face.

               "…what?" he demanded, dumbfounded.

               "Well, for one, you sound _really_ funny when you swear like that. And you finally called me ‘Maya’," she replied with the very smallest of chuckles. "But Edgeworth…" Her face became serious. "Don't worry about that."

                "But in court-"

                She waved her hand to stop his rebuttal. "Don't. What I said today…it…that shouldn't…" she sighed in exasperation. "What I mean is, that is completely different from what _you_ want me to do. I couldn't…I don't _want_ to… turn you down. What happened to you is just another way my family has hurt other people in the past, and if I start to fix that, as well as help you…" She looked even more faint now. Miles compulsively put a hand on her shoulder, afraid she would begin to waver on her feet. It was definitely time to wrap this up.

                "Alright, Maya. As long as you are completely comfortable with it, I would sincerely appreciate your assistance. If it can help you, too, that's all the better. But please, I have stolen enough of your time and strength as it is." He couldn't keep a note of pleading out of his voice.

                "Yeah…it's okay, really. I'm happy you trust me enough to do this." A genuine smile returned to her face, and she turned to leave.

                He didn't know what to say that, so he just smiled self-consciously and gave her shoulder a small squeeze before letting her go. That seemed to be enough for her, for she turned to look behind her one last time to give another reassuring smile before rejoining her younger cousin and spiky-haired guardian.

                Miles finally allowed his eyes to meet Phoenix's. The prosecutor burned with embarrassment under his age-old friend's gaze, but Wright didn't seem particularly perturbed with what he had seen of their exchange. He gave no indication of having actually overheard his conversation with Maya, considering that he looked intensely curious as to what had transpired. Maya wasn't giving any hints, thankfully, for Miles heard her exclaim with relish over her desire to sleep in an actual bed, and began to herd Phoenix and Pearl back around the corner and out of sight. Watching her do so gave him a new appreciation for Maya's ability to subtly disguise her intentions with a cover of over-the-top zeal.

                That left Edgeworth alone on the street, Gumshoe and Franziska long forgotten and departed. He could feel the doubt and dread of his decision lurking in the back of his mind, but if he allowed all that to present itself now, he would never get any sleep tonight. After the experiences of the week, he needed it desperately. Using a mental technique he had perfected during his days being raised by von Karma, he locked away the dark shadows of doubt and began to make his way home.


	2. Chapter 2

            For the first few moments after Phoenix woke up that morning, he felt almost as though the past week never happened. The wavering state between dreaming and waking has a comforting way of doing that.

            However, that all changed when he actually made to get up. The first reminder had been his back; as he had raised himself up, it had screamed its protest. Though his cold was finally gone, the bruises from his Indiana Jones-style adventure across Dusky Bridge remained. He winced and sighed. Now that he was fully awake everything that had transpired over the past few days in court had returned to the forefront of his mind.

_Maya is back and unharmed, Iris is, for the most part, saved, and another trial has seen justice. I shouldn't be feeling this horrible._

However, he knew he was kidding himself. The real work and recovery was just beginning.

            His gaze was drawn to the wall behind him, where beyond it Maya was surely still sleeping. How was he supposed to help her? A wave of helplessness passed over him and he spent the next indeterminable amount of time absorbed in it. In a way, it was therapeutic. He hadn't allowed himself to feel emotions boiling under the surface during the trial, even in the hospital - if he had, he wouldn't have been able to handle it. Now that the immediate danger was done and past, he could allow himself to relax. It was a process, unfortunately, that he had been able to perfect over the past few years. Experiences had required it.

            How long he sat there, brooding and decompressing, he never really did figure out, but finally he was interrupted by a clang from the direction of the kitchen. He physically jumped at the noise and looked around wildly in surprise. After the jitters passed, he realized that the only other person it could be was Pearl. He glanced at the clock on his DVD player. 10:17. Just when did she get up? Phoenix had taken the gentlemanly route and let Maya and Pearl sleep in his bed the previous night, delegating himself to the living room couch. He would let Maya sleep however long she needed, of course, but it was about time _he_ got up, probably. Pearls needed to be checked on, anyway.

            The kitchen was in shambles when he arrived. Pearls was in the center of it, less than gracefully stacking a dirty bowl on top of another. She wasn't a bad cook by any stretch of the imagination, but she was disorganized in the way she went about it. Judging from the ingredients fragged across the kitchen's surfaces, she was making pancakes.

            "Morning, Pearls. Need a hand?"

            She gasped in surprise, and the spoon she had been holding flew into the air and landed in the sink.

            "Oh, Mr. Nick!” Pearl exclaimed. “I never heard you get up! I decided to make breakfast for you and Mystic Maya…did I wake you?"

            "Heh, no you didn't. I'm happy you did this, but Pearls…I don't think Maya will be getting up any time soon. We should let her sleep as long as she wants."

            Pearl's hand flew to cover her mouth in surprised realization. Crestfallen, she slumped forward as though she were being chastised. Even her twin loops of hair seemed to wilt with disappointment. To Phoenix, it was one of the most depressing things he'd come across in his life. Though he never did it on purpose, of course, he couldn't help but mentally pummel himself whenever he saddened her like that. Panicked, he searched for a way to rectify the situation.

            "It's alright, though!" He couldn't keep the nervous, canned half-laughter out of his tone. "There's no reason you and I can't eat together, is there? I know _I_ don't want to eat all this by myself," he added with big, slightly forced smile for good measure. The young medium recovered her cheeriness.

            "Okay, that sounds good! Get a plate for yourself, Mr. Nick. Everything's almost ready."

            Soon enough, both were seated at the small table adjacent to the cooking area. Phoenix fell upon the food with gusto, since all the food he'd eaten in the past few days was either hospital food or some form of prepackaged snack on the go between trial proceedings.

            "This is great, Pearls! You outdo yourself every- what is it?"

            Her food had been touched sparingly, and she was staring down at some indeterminable point on the table. Phoenix reached across the table and rested his hand over what he roughly estimated to be where she was staring. Abruptly, she looked up.

            "What? Oh…" she bit her thumbnail, "I was just thinking about Mystic Maya."

            Phoenix sighed once more. With resignation, he stood up and brought his chair around the table next to hers. He spun the chair around and sat himself on it backwards, wrapping his arm loosely around her tiny shoulders.

            "You're worried about her,” he said, and winced inwardly.  
 _Way to be, Captain Obvious._

            Pearl, however, didn't seem to mind the obviousness of what he had just said, and simply nodded.

            "W-with everything that's happened, I…I don't know what to do for her, Mr. Nick."

            She had turned her face away from him mid-sentence, but he had seen the tell-tale signs of tears building in the corners of her eyes. More than anything, he wanted to tell her it would all be okay soon, that she didn't need to worry because he would take care of it. After all, no 9-year-old should have to feel burdened like this. But, he didn't know much better than she did. For that matter, did _anyone_ know how to comfort a teenage girl in the wake of her mother's murder that had been part of a malicious plot hatched by the incarcerated and the _dead_? Most people would laugh in their faces, Edgeworth included had he not been present. Phoenix still wondered exactly his friend thought of all this.

            So, then, there was nothing to do but be honest.

            "Come here." He turned himself on the chair to face her more properly, and extended his arms. After a moment, she acquiesced and climbed over onto Phoenix's lap. It was all a little unprecedented, but Phoenix felt that some extra show of comfort was in order for the little girl. There was little doubt that she was hurting just as much as Maya would be, though for decidedly different reasons.

            Phoenix paused to gather his thoughts. "Pearl…I-I don't really know exactly what to do either. But I think that, between us, if we keep an eye on Maya, we can be there when she does tell us what she needs to feel better. What do you think of that?" He ducked his head down to get a look at her downcast face. Finally, her large, glistening eyes met his and, hesitantly, she nodded.

            "Mr. Nick…"

            She buried her face into his shoulder and sniffed harshly.

            "Hey, hey…it might be hard, but it'll be okay eventually, right?"

            Lifting her shoulders, he propped her back up to look at him in the eyes again. Surprisingly, his reassuring smile came back easily and felt far more genuine this time. Just a few moments ago, he had been just as adrift in doubt and confusion as the girl on his lap. He couldn't understand what had changed so suddenly.

            _"That girl is looking to you to be her rock, Wright. You can't allow yourself to be overwhelmed like that. Not now."_

_Hmph. Edgeworth, right as usual._

What had been true during the Engarde trial remained so, even now.  It seemed as though he had subconsciously learned Edgeworth' lesson this time around. More than likely, it was a rather depressing notion that he even needed to learn that lesson to begin with, but he found he didn't mind much at the moment. Right now, it was a saving grace. Pearl finally spoke.

            "Yes…You're right Mr. Nick!" Her face lit with determination. "We need to be able to pay attention. Mystic Maya won't want to talk about it and try to hide it, but we'll be able to tell!"

            "That's right," he said with a nod. Pearl slid off of Phoenix's lap and went back to eating breakfast. Using the excuse of returning his plate to the sink, Phoenix allowed himself to ponder Maya's predicament without interference a little further. Was there no better plan for tackling what could become an emotional train wreck? He had always considered himself to be an optimist, but this was pushing his luck. With a lack of better ideas, however, it would have to do for now. At least he was aware that there was an issue at all. Hopefully, Maya would be able to open up easily and take his and Pearl's help.

            _Well, it's not like she's Miles, so it shouldn't be_ too _bad._

 All matters of emotional distress were improved when compared with Edgeworth.

 

 


End file.
